


Shakespeare's Romantic, Right?

by assholemurphy



Series: Stories From The Promised Land [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Murphy's a Shakespeare quoting loser, Not Beta Read, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3755896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assholemurphy/pseuds/assholemurphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murphy quotes Shakespearean sonnets and Monty thinks he's a loser. Just a bunch of fluff, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shakespeare's Romantic, Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I have a new found appreciation for Shakespeare because of the research done for this (if only they taught the sonnets in school rather than R&J first) and Murphy is a loserdork.   
> Note: The sonnets used are Sonnet 18 and Sonnet 29 (my personal favorite, oops, but I think it describes Murphy's outlook pretty well, tbh.)

Monty stood outside on the balcony, sun blazing down and keeping him almost uncomfortably warm in the last hour or so of daylight they had left. Water droplets ran off the icy glass he held as he watched Murphy clearing away branches and debris near the base of the lighthouse. He had no idea what the other boy was doing, but he was certainly enjoying watching him do it, the heat having caused Murphy to shuck off his shirt already.

Murphy knew he was up here, too, because every now and then he'd look up and wave or roll his eyes, not that Monty could tell from where he was, but that was exactly what Murphy was doing. He knew Monty was staring and it didn't bother him in the slightest, he just wanted to finish what he was doing. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you'd help me!” He called up.

“I don't even know what you're doing.” Monty shouted back.

“Cleaning.”

“Why are you cleaning?”

Murphy tosses another tree limb out of the way before responding, “It's a surprise.” He didn't really expect Monty to help him, this was a surprise for him, anyway, but he did enjoy nagging at him.

“I think I'm good. Looks like a lot of work and besides, there's a great view up here.”

“Oh, really?” Murphy asked, turning to look up behind him, pushing his hair back from his face. “The ocean is pretty nice, I guess.”

“Don't be a loser, Murphy.” Monty snorted.

“I am what I am, honey, sorry to disappoint.”

“Remind me why I like you again?”

“Because I'm amazing.” Murphy told him, spreading his arms and twirling in an over-dramatic gesture.

“Right. That must be it, how could I have forgotten.” Monty shook his head, lighthearted sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Shut up, nerd.” Murphy laughed.

“Rude.” Monty feigned hurt. “That's incredibly hurtful and here I thought you loved me.”

Murphy rolled his eyes, “I'm sorry, babe. Forgive me?”

“I can't. It hurts too much. I can't do it. I'm going inside, I can't deal with you right now.”

“Babe, please,” Murphy forced back a laugh, playing along. “Please don't. Come back, my dearest Juliet, please!”

“Juliet _died,_ Murphy.”

“Sure, pick out the _worst_ part, why don't you?”

“Is there a good part to that story?”

“Well, no, but there are some less bad parts.” Murphy shrugged. “But, I mean, if you'd rather a different Shakespearean work, I've got several others memorized.”

“Alright, then.” Monty returned to his place by the railing and crossed his arms, waiting.

Murphy swallowed, taken aback. He hadn't expected Monty to accept the offer, and now that he had, Murphy couldn't remember a single one, typical. Well, there was nothing wrong with cliché, he supposed. He cleared his throat and began to recite, staring up at Monty as he delivered the words as dramatically as he could. 

“ __Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:  
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,  
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:  
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,  
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;  
And every fair from fair sometime declines,  
By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed;  
But thy eternal summer shall not fade  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;  
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,  
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:  
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

Once he'd finished, he looked up at Monty with a raised eyebrow, “Good enough?”

Monty choked back a laugh, “And you called  _ me _ a nerd.”

“Can't even be properly romanced.” Murphy sighed with a shake of his head, “I give up.”

“Oh, so _that's_ what that was.”

“Yeah, that's what that was.”

“I see. Well, maybe it's less my inability to _be_ romanced and more your inability _to_ romance me.” Monty said with a shrug, taking a sip of his drink.

“Excuse me?” Murphy raised his eyebrows at Monty, offended.

“Just this once.” Monty nodded, digging a piece of ice out of his glass and tossing it at the older. “But only this once.”

“You little shit!” Murphy exclaimed as the ice hit his chest. “That's cold.”

“It's _ice,_ Murphy, no shit it's cold. Did you even pay attention in class?”

“Okay, you know what-” Murphy cut off, storming into the lighthouse, leaving Monty cackling on the balcony. He raced up the stairs and through the bunker til he reached the balcony, Monty not yet having noticed his presence. He crept up behind him, Monty's laughter covering the sound of his footsteps.

Monty startled when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, giving out a small squeak and reaching up to smack Murphy playfully. “Jerk.”

“You love it.” Murphy chuckled, grabbing the offending hand and lacing their fingers together.

“Yeah, but for the life of me, I can't figure out why.” Monty replied, leaning back against Murphy. His nightmares had stopped almost completely since he'd started sleeping next to him and he'd learnt how to, well, not so much cook, exactly, more like how not to completely burn everything to ashes. He'd become very used to Murphy's snark and had become even more accustomed to dealing it back just as easily. He had no idea why, but he really did like Murphy, even if he was a complete sap most of the time.

“But you do.” Murphy hummed, content to stand there and watch the sun go down. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten while he was working, he'd have to finish up tomorrow. Monty had found those stupid seeds back when his leg was still messed up, but now that he could move around, Murphy had decided to clear off a spot for a garden of sorts, if Monty wanted it, that was. If he didn't plan to leave before then. Murphy really hoped he wouldn't, but the likely hood of that was very slim, considering Monty belonged back at Camp Jaha with everyone else, not out here in the middle of nowhere, but for now, while Monty was here, he could pretend that Monty wouldn't leave him.

“Very much.” Monty agreed, watching the sky go from gold to dark blue, the first stars blinking into existence. Out here it was beautiful and there wasn't a constant threat of attacks from anyone, at least, not that he'd notice. Not that it mattered, if there ever came a time that they weren't safe, they could simply lock themselves in the bunker and ride it out. It was very calm out here, and Murphy really wasn't bad company. If Monty was honest with himself, he was kind of glad he left camp, he never would have ended up here if he hadn't and that meant he'd never have gotten to know Murphy, he'd have been stuck with his assumptions and that would have been fine, he guessed. It wasn't like he'd have ever know anything else, but he was glad he did. He let out a small sigh when he felt Murphy kiss at his neck where his t-shirt met bare skin.

“When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state,” He whispered into Monty's shoulder, his voice so quiet that if they hadn't been as close as they were Monty doubted he'd have heard it.

“What?” He asked, his own voice falling to a whisper, as though not to break the calmness around them. 

“And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries and look upon myself and curse my fate. Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, featured like him, like him with friends possessed,” Murphy continued, placing feather light kisses against Monty's skin, causing the younger to shiver. 

Another sonnet, then. This one didn't seem to be as cheesy, though, it's words seemed somehow sad and the way Murphy said them was different, too, like he was telling Monty something deeply personal, something he doubted Murphy would ever tell him in his own words, he probably wasn't sure how.

“Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, with what I most enjoy contented least. Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, haply I think on thee, and then my state, like to the lark at break of day arising from sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate.” Murphy raised up, whispering the last lines in Monty's ear while he stared out at the sea, “For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings that then I scorn to change my state with kings.”

“Murphy-” Monty began but Murphy cut him off.

“Wanna help me cook supper?” He asked, voice raised to a normal level once again. 

Monty took this as a cue not to press and he nodded. He didn't have to ask, not really, even if he didn't understand the words completely, he understood that it meant something to Murphy to say them out loud, and to someone else, no less.

“I'm thinking pasta, that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Murphy smiled at the young genius for a moment before leaning down and giving him a chaste kiss, “Now, come on. I'm starving, I've been working all day, you know.”

Monty shook his head, smiling as he let Murphy lead him to the kitchen. Whether he knew Murphy's meaning or not, he did get the general gist of it. It was sad, and somewhat self-loathing, but he wasn't sure that's how Murphy meant it. If Murphy meant it the way Monty thought he did, well, Monty was more than flattered that he could do that, be that, for Murphy.

And he wasn't too sure Murphy hadn't just confessed to loving him, but he was going to chalk that up to wishful thinking.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved. My tumblr is here [assholemurphy](http://assholemurphy.tumblr.com/)


End file.
